


I Got Him Wanting To Embrace His Sins

by tweed-and-paisley (NuclearGers)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bottom!Eames, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Toys, both dirty and sappy, eames makes arthur very distracted, top!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearGers/pseuds/tweed-and-paisley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I look down upon my lover with all the pride, affection, and underlying lust he deserves.</p>
<p>Not that he can see it, though, with one of his favorite silk ties of mine wrapped carefully over his eyes as a blindfold. Even if he wants to catch a peek, he'll be very much unable to; I've made sure of that. Not only do those sheepskin-lined leather cuffs look gorgeous against his lovely wrists, they do a damn fine job of keeping him right where I want him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Got Him Wanting To Embrace His Sins

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a variation of a line from The Weeknd’s ‘Acquainted’.

I look down upon my lover with all the pride, affection, and underlying lust he deserves.

Not that he can see it, though, with one of his favorite silk ties of mine wrapped carefully over his eyes as a blindfold. Even if he wants to catch a peek, he'll be very much unable to; I've made sure of that. Not only do those sheepskin-lined leather cuffs look gorgeous against his lovely wrists, they do a damn fine job of keeping him right where I want him.

Those sinful lips of his break out into a playful grin, the one I love that's rather goofy and shows just a hint of his perfectly-crooked teeth. "Darling, are you still there, or am I going to have to figure out a way to reach the phone to dial some help, all with my toes?"

I smile just a little. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Eames." Said smile broadens just a tad when one of my fingertips leaves a feather-light trail from the sole of his foot to the top of his ankle, and the action makes him emit a soft gasp.

"O-oh! There you are, pet. I was almost worried you'd left." His toes curl once and he gives a wriggle on the bed, getting comfortable again. He can never sit still.

"Leave you?" I say softly, gloved hand lazily sliding up his leg to rest on the curve of his hip. He sighs, and I feel it in my chest when he smiles as I say, "Never."

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers, and if his tone wasn’t so cocky I’d swear he was almost relieved. 

Even if I wasn’t so completely, hopelessly in love with this man, honestly, the sight of him alone right now would be enough to keep me at his side. How could anyone refuse that plush bottom lip just barely shaking despite its grin? Or the slight heave in his bare chest, that thick, exposed length already dribbling pre-come on his belly, and those spread thighs so hungry and ready for the taking… He looks very much like an offering to a god. Or rather, he is that god, and I’m just here to please him.

Once again, he’s got me pinned in place, my breath pulled right from my lungs. No matter how often we do this, whether it’s making love or playing or straight-up fucking, I never get desensitized to it. My Eames, like this, so vulnerable and warm and radiating with desire, never fails to blow me away... Somehow, the smug, beautiful bastard always knows it, and now is certainly no different.

"Arthur," he purrs, his grin becoming a smirk. "You're staring, again."

I almost blush.

"Hush." I make him gasp by flicking his nipple to taut-ness before I turn to the table nearby.

His deep, moany chuckle sends a shiver up my spine and another wave of pleasure rolls its way down south, and my grip on the riding crop's handle goes tight. I hold it in one hand, then grab the next items with the other and carry them all to the bed where my impatiently waiting Eames lies.

When he feels my knee make a dip in the bed he licks his lips in anticipation and his breath quickens, looking very much like an excitable puppy. Even at his hottest, he can still pull off endearing, god, I adore him.

I lean forward over him, not close enough to touch but enough that he can feel my body heat, and I murmur softly and let my breath ghost the shell of his ear, "Relax, Mr. Eames..."

He gives a soft gasp, and I can almost feel his shudder as his body gives a slight arch up off the bed.

I chuckle, low and husky just like he likes. This earns me a tiny whine, and I know that smug smile's been wiped from his face in no time at all. 

I nibble and place slow kisses at the lobe of his ear, and when he starts to pant little breaths in my own, I have to lift my hips more to better resist grinding on him. He gives a soft hiss when I tilt my head down and my stubble grazes his throat. I replace the rough graze with the wet touch of my tongue and lick the reddened skin, beginning to mark it with a deep bruise. The sounds he makes above me would send a weaker man to his knees, but I’m only further encouraged. I know he’ll wear this mark with pride in the coming days, and that thought sends a bolt of pleasure right down to my already-aching cock.

“A-Arthur, please,” His large body writhes under my smaller one, voice shaky and rasping. My sensitive little Forger… He cries out when one of my straying hands “accidentally” drags all along the underside of his very prominent erection, and his buck nearly throws me off him. So, so sensitive, indeed.

"Ah, ah, ah," I gently scold when he bucks once again, a tad more insistently, feeling the tip of his cock nudge my own clothed bulge. My leather-clad hand slowly slides its way up from the sheets, over his side, and to his chest where it rests over one of those delicious pecs. I thumb at a nipple as he mewls and I say, "You're not going to start being a greedy boy already, are you?"

He shakes his head with a breathy huff. "No, sir. Just…"

"Hm?" I give a nip, then kiss a delicate trail across his throat and over to his other ear. "'Just what’, sugar?"

He gives a weak, keening cry that steadily grows as I begin to pinch and lightly twist his nipple. "I-I don't know, Arthur! Ah! Please, touch me again, o-or fffuck me, or something!"

I can't help but give my own hard shudder, absolutely delighting in that desperate, wanton tone, but I cover it up with another of those mean, mean chuckles in his ear before sitting up and pulling my hand away. He whines at the loss of contact, bottom lip pouting out just a bit. 

"We're two seconds in and you're begging already? You little slut, so needy…" I give a slap to one of his thighs and revel in the yelp I get. "So, so greedy…" He cries out again when I slap his pecs, and I have to bite my lip to keep the moan in.

"Yes," he breathes, panting just a little. He gives another lick of his lips and quickly tries to settle himself down as he murmurs, "'M so sorry, darling, I didn't mean to be, I'll be good. …ohh, but the things you do to me..." I can't see his eyes with that blindfold in the way, but I know he's closing them by the look of ecstasy that flashes across his blushing face.

Dirty boy, what's on your mind?

I reach over and press my thumb to his bottom lip, rubbing it and watching as his tongue darts out to give it a few sneaky licks. He moans again before taking the digit into his mouth and suckling it like a treat, and despite the leather muting the feeling some, the sight alone is enough to make me growl. My pants are getting painfully tight, this is almost too much. He sighs when I take my thumb away, and then further relaxes into the bed to sprawl with his thighs open.

Hint duly noted, Mr. Eames.

Now, to get to really get things started.

I readjust my gloves, making sure he can hear each twist and pull of the leather, before I reach to the side and pluck the riding crop up off the sheets, my eyes never leaving his face. 

Then, I remember those thighs spread so nicely, so invitingly, so… expectantly. I set the crop back down and have to hold in my snicker as my hand drifts over to the vibrator lying nearby. I know what he wants, what he thinks he’s getting, and I can’t help but tease him a little. I flick at the button on the bottom and the toy buzzes to life and, just like I knew it would, causes an immediate reaction within Eames, like a bell to Pavlov’s dog. He huffs a short, breathy laugh and squirms, a crooked smile coming back to his blushing face. “Oho, thank you, pet, thank you!”

His surprised yelp and the following pout afterwards is damn near heartbreaking when I snap the riding crop across the underside of his plump ass. “Arthurrr!” He whines. “That wasn’t very nice!”

“Ohoho, baby,” I snap the crop again, and he jolts. “Who said anything about nice?” 

I can practically see his pouty glare even with the tie still in place, and I reward him with a light tap of leather across both his nipples. He inhales sharply and exhales with a shudder, another ‘darling’ on his lips, and his fingers flex against his palms. 

I reach over and shut the still-humming vibrator off, then give a hard slap to one of those beautiful thighs. Eames gasps and hisses a curse, but I see his cock pulse, and it does it again with the crop meets his skin once, twice, three times more. He cries out each time, and I swear I hear “another!” somewhere in-between those sounds. I give him exactly that.

Each strike of my hand and the crop to his thighs, ass, chest, and stomach has him whimpering and mewling or yelping and shouting out more raspy yeses and curses. Soon, though, I know he’s reaches his limit and I put the riding crop aside, done with it. 

He lies there, panting hard and moaning, his sore, shaking body covered in a light sheen of sweat and red welts and lines. I trace a fingertip over one, admiring how strong my Forger is.

As smoothly as a cat, I slither down the bed to get in-between those muscular thighs I adore so much, and the sight I'm gifted with when I glance all over makes my breath catch in my throat. Our room is dimly-lit with moonlight and candles, and they do wonderfully to enhance the beauty that is Eames. From his reddened face to each dark tattoo, to those spread legs and now to that precious little hole waiting just for me... I crawl closer and ghost a warm breath over it watching it quiver as he curls his toes beside me and sighs once more. I know how badly he wants to say something, how badly he wants to let that 'please' slip from his lips, but he does a damn fine job of keeping it to himself and replaces it with a lovely groan instead. I reward him with a gentle nip to the welts on his ass cheeks and then lean in for one long, swirling lick. I feel the quiver rather than see it this time, and the pitched mewl he gives makes me grind once at the bed.

Sliding my hands down over his skin, I spread him more and set my tongue to work slow and easy, prepping and pleasing him all at once. I can already hear the straining of the straps around his wrists as he pulls on them again, can feel that body of his resume its writhing dance in the sheets.

“Oh, Arthur…” He sighs, voice like warm honey, and I know his lashes are fluttering under the blindfold when my tongue flickers in response to my name. I teasingly swirl the tip all over his twitching ring of muscle, then lazily trail it up over his perineum and stop just under his balls. He mewls softly, squirming a bit when my stubble brushes him, and gasps quietly when the breath from my quick laugh rushes over his balls. I kiss each one and nuzzle the underside of his length with my nose before fluttering all the way back down with the tip of my tongue, and when I reach my goal he spreads his thighs open more in response, silently begging me to go deeper. I do, gladly, with my mouth pressing wet kisses while my tongue finally breaches the muscle, going in deep and slow.

It’s like a damn angels’ chorus in our bed when I do. 

“Arthur-!!” He pleads, kicking at the sheets and hole going tight around my tongue, wrists pulling hard at the restraints. I glance up through my lashes and watch his twitching cock dribble more pre-come all over his belly, watch that mouth form breathy, whispered pleas, and oh, does the whole sight set my body on fire. 

After a few more thrusts, I pull my smirking mouth away and lick my lips, reveling in the lingering taste of him. He whimpers, but only briefly, for he knows exactly what’s happening next. ‘You lucky boy, you,’ I think as I take hold of the vibrator again and turn it back on. He reacts just as he did earlier, only much more needy this time, much more impatient. I’m almost tempted to repeat my previous teasing, but I don’t, how could I when he’s been such a good boy tonight? Besides, any more holding off and we’ll both be driven mad here.

He repositions himself to where his legs are up and lifted and his knees are resting near his chest, giving me much better access to his ass, as well as a much better, naughtier view. I tell him my thanks by drawing a feather-light circle with the buzzing tip, startling him enough to make the bed rock. He laughs loud and groaning, a wonderful sound, and his blush darkens in the candlelight. “A-ahh! Jesus, petal, that was wonderful!” His dopey, crooked-toothy grin is back and it’s infectious. I can’t help my own smile as I repeat the vibrator’s again, and another time, moaning low in my throat as I watch his expression melt into one of pure, dizzy pleasure. 

He doesn’t even need to ask to get me to press the toy into his slick, pliant entrance, and when I do those legs give a delicious shiver and shake just for me. He rolls his hips to get it in deeper, just as greedy as ever, and begins a little show of swiveling and bucking when I start to thrust it for him. I turn the intensity up a notch and he moans a loud “oh!” It’s beautiful. 

“You like that, baby? Feels good, huh?” I rasp, swallowing thickly. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I find myself absently wishing he could see himself, too. 

He nods, whispering in-between all his sounds, “Y-yes! God, yes, love!! So good, please don’t stop, ‘m almost there!” 

Oh, that won’t do, no, no. I cluck my tongue and roughly grip the base of his aching erection with my free hand. He gives a weak wail of despair and tries to buck away from my grasp, but it only serves to jostle the toy around more- right into his prostate. I laugh under my breath and turn the intensity up as far as it will go, and he begins to thrash against the pillows and his restraints, sobbing, “FUCK!! Arthur, you bastard!! Please!! Please, my love!!” 

I treat him to another full minute of cruelty, denying him his orgasm as I keep the toy pressed relentlessly to his poor prostate until finally I shut it off entirely. He collapses to the bed with a choked sigh of relief, hips still giving weak thrusts as I remove the toy but keep my other hand in place until I know he won’t come just yet. As I fiddle with the small tube of lube, he gasps another tiny sob and I look down to see those thick thighs, with their temporary lines of angry red, quiver hard with too much pleasure. 

My mouth goes dry and I swallow. I need to see him, need to look into those eyes after so long. I set the lubricant aside and reach over to undo the knot behind his head. I feel a warmth in my chest when he nuzzles his head against the insides of my wrists, and when the tie falls away he looks up at me with such desperate want -no, need-, that I know I cannot deny him anything more. How can I? When that voice, soft and gravelly in the quiet light of the room whimpers, "Darling, please? I need you.” it's then that I realize that I'm the one being ‘broken’, that I'm the one now being tamed, and god, it nearly sends me to the brink.

Gloved hands shaking, I stroke his face in reverence and he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He tilts his head up silently beckoning me for a kiss and I meet his lips with my own. Despite our previous activities, it’s slow and loving, deeply passionate without our normal aggression and hunger on these sorts of nights.

I reluctantly pull away, our eyes still on each other as I sit back and get myself situated to where I can finally release my sore cock and begin to slick it up. I stroke myself quickly, groaning low as my eyes trail over that welcoming body, finally stopping back at those steely-blue eyes that are heavily-lidded with lust and something else. 

I reach for those beckoning thighs and move right in-between them, my cock aching with the need to be even closer to his soft, wet hole. He whimpers again and that simple sound makes my knees go weak, but I quickly regain my strength for him; he will not see his master at his mercy, not yet, not ‘til the very end… if I can manage it. I’ve already gotten too soft, too ‘forgiving’, and if I’m not careful, I’ll forget my more dominant role even more than I already have tonight and begin begging much like he has. 

Not that I’d honestly mind.

I take hold of his waist and lift him into my lap, hissing a bit when my glans brushes against him, and once I know he’s good and ready I push forward, thrusting in slow and so very deep until I bottom out with his ass nestled against my thighs. 

His body arches delicately and his head drops back with a gasp, his eyes fluttering closed with pleasure and only the slightest hint of pain. As we both take a moment to adjust –myself to his overwhelming tightness-, I lean forward over him to press kisses to the small welts on his chest leftover from earlier. He hums in appreciation and murmurs something about wishing he could run his fingers through my hair. I happily oblige him, especially knowing how sore his arms must be by now, and I move to undo his restraints.

He hums again, briefly rubbing at his wrists and forearms before circling them all around my shoulders to pull me in for another kiss, this one a bit more urgent than the first, and it’s then that I begin thrusting. He moans into my mouth, nipping and licking with his groans as he rolls and swivels his hips right back at my own. I aim to find his prostate as he does this, and it doesn’t take more than a few tries to do so. We know we won’t last long, we got ourselves much too riled, and that’s okay, we couldn’t care less.

He pulls away with a light, throaty chuckle, his grin playful and teasing as he murmurs, “I thought –hhah! - you were supposed to be terribly mean all night, pet?” 

I snort, shushing him with a harmless bite at his jaw. “Yeh, well, I can’t help it, Eames. Your goddamn beauty had me getting all sentimental again.” What can I say? He really was just too much tonight.

His smile softens and his eyes are shining with love when he looks up at me. He says nothing more, instead burying his face in the crook of my neck and I hold him closer with my hips picking up their pace as I fuck into him harder, deeper. 

Soon enough, his fingers clutch more desperately at my shoulders and those warm breaths against my collar become heated, panting cries. His body stiffens and goes taut, arching right up into mine, and he tightens so impossibly tight all around my length as he mewls out my name, spilling his seed all over our stomachs and chests. I follow only a moment after, my grip on him becoming crushing, and I bury my dick to the hilt and come deep inside him until I’m completely spent. We collapse onto the bed in a heap, breathing hard and filling the air with our dwindling moans and sighs. 

A few minutes pass before I finally get up, and I begin the process of getting him cleaned and taken care of. I remove my gloves and the rest of my clothes, and then go get a bath running for us before I go and fetch him. As he settles into the water, I head back into our room to remove the sheets and blow out the candles, then come back to him to get ourselves washed. 

As I’m taking my time with him, I notice the mark on his throat and the stray stubble-burn here and there, all with smug pride, but it’s the small laceration on his thigh that makes me frown. I must have gotten more carried away with the riding crop than I thought, and even though he says he doesn’t mind, that he didn’t even notice, I still make sure to properly clean and bandage it once were out of the tub. I even give it a peck or two when I think he’s not looking, though I damn well know he knows. Oh well. It’s just more of the increasingly sappy Arthur he’ll just have to keep enduring tonight. 

Once we’re settled on the couch and watching the TV, him wrapped in my hoodie and blanket and cuddled in my lap, I make sure to thank him the same as I do every night we do these things by holding him closer and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

He settles in with a quiet sigh and reaches up and back to stroke fondly at my cheek. “You’re welcome, darling, ‘love you, too.”

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked, thank you for reading! Sorry if this was all over the place, my apologies. This is the first fanfiction I’ve written in a LONG time, and the first I’ve ever written for Arthur/Eames. Any suggestions/comments/whatever would be much appreciated, thanks! <3


End file.
